


A Time for Healing

by Bethann



Series: An Ancient Grudge-An AU of Legendary Friendship [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adopted Children, Angst, Corporal Punishment, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Spanking, Tol Eressëa, non sexual spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 21:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17009661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bethann/pseuds/Bethann
Summary: A follow up of An Ancient Grudge.  In the aftermath of his run in with Dagnir, Gimli hesitates to be very strict with Legolas, while Legolas searches for familiar ground.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sort of dark turn in the Legendary Friendship series that can be seen as an alternate universe. I've listed it as a separate series.

Four days have passed since our triumphant return from Avallónë, where the council there agreed to grant Legolas his land request in behalf of the elves who have settled in the Valley. It was wonderful to be home again and thinking of something besides preparing for that meeting, though admittedly it has been a little difficult settling down to every day life. For over two months there has been thought of little else, so that now we almost don’t know what to do with ourselves. 

Not that there isn’t anything to do. The harvest has been mostly brought in, but there is much to do in preparing things for storage for the winter. Mistress Glasiel and Mistress Elanor are busy canning, pickling and drying crops, while Aerlinn has been bottling honey and rendering wax for use as balms, candles and cleaning supplies. Now that we are back from New Imladris, Legolas and I have been helping Gaearon to finish some storage sheds that are needed to hold the overflow of foodstuffs, for this has been a bountiful growing season. I had thought my elfling would prefer to be preparing the ground for the winter root crops, but when I suggested it, he insisted he would rather work with me on building the sheds, something that came as a bit of a surprise to me.

Not that I mind in any way. If he wants to work by my side, I have no reason to object. In fact just at the moment I would be unlikely to deny any somewhat reasonable request considering what he has recently been through at the hands of that insufferable snake Dagnir who calls himself a leader of the Silvan elves. 

Legolas has yet to tell me the details on exactly what happened between the two of them, thought it doesn’t take a world class scholar to figure most of it. I saw with my own eyes the evidence of his abusive actions and I know very well that emotional scars take longer to heal than physical ones. Compared to the ancient Dagnir, my lad is little more than an inexperienced adolescent who would not have expected that anyone on the island would mean him harm. He has fought any number of dark enemies of course, but he is used to being well loved by those of his own race and no doubt expected that Dagnir was being truthful when he claimed he wished to help, even managing to convince him that his methods of doing so were just and acceptable. It makes my blood boil to think that he must have believed on some level that he deserved such treatment to the point of hiding from me what was taking place. 

Since the council meeting, I have done my level best to make sure to be as comforting and gentle as possible, agreeing with whatever he feels like doing as far as I am able. I know he needs to work things out in his own mind so I am trying very hard not to push him to confide anything he is not comfortable with, though I know very well that in time it will have to be spoken of. For now I am trying to give him plenty of space and freedom to choose how to best deal with the situation. Of course there are some things that can only be carried on for so long before I need to step in and tonight may be the night for while he spends most of his time during the day close by my side, he has spent the nights since the meeting walking in the kitchen gardens or sitting in the treetops at the edges of the garden where there is a clear view of our bedchamber windows. On those nights I have left a lamp burning in the window to remind him that I am nearby should he have need to speak to me, though he has not yet availed himself of that provision. Some mornings I have found him still outside at dawn and sometimes he is busy building a fire in my fireplace to chase away the morning chill, but I know this week that sleeping has not been on the agenda.

Normally I would have put a stop to this by now, but I know he is finding rest difficult and that he fears being plagued with nightmares, though he has not said as much. I understand this, but on the other hand, this cannot go on forever. I am hoping against hope that he will decide on his own that tonight is the night to begin sleeping again, for if he does not, I know I will have to insist on it, and I have no desire to get into an argument with him about it. 

Unfortunately my hope does not come true, for after we have spent a long evening sitting together in the sitting room alternately talking of the day and our plans for tomorrow and sitting silently watching the fire, I suggest that it is time we were off to bed.

“You go ahead, Elvellon.” He tells me. “I think I will take a short walk first.”

Which I know very well means he hopes I will soon be asleep and not notice that he never comes to bed again this night. He says this casually as if he thinks I won’t object, but I know he realizes that I am going to come to the end of my patience very soon and is just trying to see how long I will leave his nightly prowling unchallenged. Well I am afraid we have come to the end of that time. I keep my voice gentle, but using a tone that cannot be misunderstood.

“Not tonight, Lamb.”

“Why not?” he demands, a little exasperated now.

“Because ye haven’t slept since we were in New Imladris and even then it wasn’t very well and that trend needs to end. Now come.” With that I stand up and pull him to his feet as well. But if I thought he was going to meekly follow me upstairs I was wrong.

“I am going outside, Gimli,” He crosses his arms and glares at me. “I am not tired.”

“I did not ask if you were tired, Lad. And no you are not going outside tonight,” I growl. “you’re going to go upstairs and go to bed and that’s that.”

“I am not a child you know,” he informs me, though the petulant look on his face denies the truth of this supposition!

Still I only say mildly, “I did not say that you were.”

“You were implying it!”

Getting thoroughly tired of this discussion I say a little louder, “Do not argue with me, elfling!” I step forward to grasp his arm and am a taken aback when he retreats back a step and cringes away from me almost as if he expects to be slapped. Stunned I drop my hand to my side. I should have thought!

“I am not going to strike you, Lamb. You do know that do you not?” 

Stepping forward he wraps both arms around my neck and lowers his face into the top of my hair. “Of course I know that , Elvellon. I’m so sorry.”

“There is no reason to be sorry, Lamb. It was only a reflex.” I hold him close for a moment and then pull away to look at him. “None of this is your fault, Child.”

He nods in agreement, though I have no idea if he really believes me or not, but at least he is no longer arguing with me about the need to go to bed. He follows me upstairs obediently enough, but once in his chambers he looks at the bed as if it were a torture chamber instead of a big comfortable mattress piled with freshly plumped feather pillows. Suddenly I can’t leave him here to face the night alone.

“Why don’t you move in with me for tonight, Lamb? It’s a cool evening and your fire hasn’t been laid.”

“I will be fine,” he informs me, though I can see already that he is far from it.

“Do it for me, Laddie. It will make me feel better,” I insist.

“Really?”

“Aye, really. I will sleep better knowing you aren’t in here freezing to death in this cold room.”

“It isn’t that cold yet, Gimli so I will be unlikely to freeze to death,” I know he is making fun of me, but frankly I do not care . He smiles and adds, “ I will be fine on my own.”

“Perhaps, but I don’t think I will be. Now come on!”

He smiles at me and finally follows me across the dressing room to my bedchamber and my warm fire. He may feel he needs to face his fears alone, but as long as I have breath that will not be the case, though I have a feeling we may be in for a long night.


	2. Legolas pov

I allow myself to be hustled into a nightshirt and then into Gimli’s bed while he bustles about banking the fire, snuffing candles and generally fussing around in the hope that I will fall asleep. I would like to do so. I feel exhausted, but sleep will bring me little relief for my dream path has been dark for several days now and whatever I try to do to alleviate it has not worked.

So, it seems to me to be preferable to remain awake, to walk under the stars and listen to the night creatures. I know that Gimli would wish for me to confide in him but I have caused him and everyone else enough trouble in the last few weeks that I am determined not to add to his cares and concerns by weeping on his shoulder and being pathetic.

I know he is worried about me, which is why he has insisted I sleep in here tonight. I will have to try and lull him into believing I am going to sleep and then I can slip away and spend the night amongst the trees although I will need to be back before first light if I am to avoid his displeasure.

For now I let my eyes lose focus and wish Gimli peaceful dreams, then wish I had thought of a better salutation as he flashes me a look and growls

“Tis ye who is in need of peaceful dreams Lamb,. Now close your eyes and relax I will guard your rest tonight.”

I sigh but knowing the stubbornness of my dwarf there is little point in further dissembling so I dispose myself for sleep and trust to his exhaustion at the end of a long day helping build the storage sheds to help me to out-wait him.

Yet even as I lie there my mind begins to wander I have not entered my dream path but I have found in the last few weeks that night terrors have begun to invade my conscious mind as much as my unconscious one.

There is a darkness pervading my mind and I have been unable to shake myself free of it. I heard Frodo speak once of the way the ring called to him and how he began to lose himself, as if all that was good and true was being stripped away from him and I appear to be suffering similarly, save of course my problems are of a far less serious nature than those of the ring bearer.

It is just the phrase that I think best describes me, ‘losing myself’. I have lost belief in who I am and what I stand for. I have known hatred of course I have, Orc and spiders, wargs and other spawn of Sauron have always hated elven kind. I have seen cruelty in the eyes of Uruk-hai and also in some men as they look upon me, but never until recently did I believe that another elf could harbor such disgust for me that Dagnir appears to do and I still do not know why.

What have I done to him?

My stomach clenches as I remember the look in his eyes at the end of the council meeting. I have tried to put it aside, to move on but I cannot. It is not just his venom for me that is a cause of concern but more importantly I saw him look with loathing upon Gimli as well. While my guardian would likely brush aside Dagnir’s disdain, I worry for him, aye and for those others who championed my cause as well. My weakness and failures have placed them at risk and that I cannot forgive myself for.

I turn slightly so that I can look toward the open windows in Gimli’s chamber, the night is warm, hot even, I desperately try to give my thoughts a more positive direction and set myself to working out whether we will have sufficient food stored after the harvest to keep us through another harsh winter.

The harvest is nearly complete, the hay dried and ready to be brought into the barns, I hear thunder in the distance and hope that we have a few more fine days so that the last of the feed and fodder can be carried into storage. 

Tomorrow I have said I will ride out with Fimbrethil to look at a site he thinks might prove suitable for planting vines. I wanted to remain with Gimli but he insisted it would do me good to be out in the sunshine. 

 

I had been looking forward to planting a vine yard but now I can scarcely summon up sufficient interest to even go out and look at the area of hillside that Fimbrethil has chosen to plant up our first vines.

Still I should be able to call in at New Imladris as well since I must ride out in that direction, for I have asked Erestor if he would look for some books in the library there that might help me to continue my studies in the archaic Silvan dialect that Dagnir made use of. I wish to prove if only to myself that I am capable of mastering it.

 

I do not think Gimli would approve so I have said I wish to borrow some books on viticulture. I dare not think what he would say if he knew I was deceiving him or that I had kept the books Dagnir left behind. Gimli would sooner have consigned them to the fire, just as he did the ruler. I will have to take care he does not find out, for his determination to protect me from Dagnir may well make him angry.

I shift again and Gimli grumbles at me and then pulls me into his arms and I find that with my head resting on his shoulder and the soft rumbling of his breathing it is impossible to deny sleep any longer. I will have to trust to Gimli’s strength to keep me free of bad dreams tonight, if anyone can it will be him.

I awake to the sound of a thrush singing in the garden, its song answered by the more strident notes of a robin challenging for territory. I cannot believe I have slept through the night, but it seems that Gimli Gloinson’s presence is sufficient to keep at bay even the darkest of dreams.

Tis no wonder Sauron never tried to corrupt my dwarf, evil cannot corrupt what is incorruptible. 

I sit up and find Gimli tending the fire and with a kettle already boiling so that it will not be long before our morning tea is available. He beams at me.

“Well now you look a deal better than you did last evening, that’s for sure.”

I reply with complete truthfulness that I feel a great deal better,

“Good, good, get dressed laddie and we will go down to first meal, I have a mind to accompany you to see this vineyard of yours.”

Knowing that should he do so he would then go on to New Imladris I am reduced to saying that I am certain he has more important things to be doing this morning.

“I thought I would call in at New Imladris though on my way back so to speak, just to pay my respects to Lord Elrond and the lady Celebrian, and to see if Ressor has had time to find those books I requested on viticulture.”  
“That is a good idea lamb, and do not forget to thank them for their support at the council either.”

I assure him I will do so and for a mercy he lets the subject go, yet I still feel guilty.

Riding out to the foothills with Fimbrethil my thoughts keep returning to my beloved guardian. He was so happy to see me looking as he called it more like my normal self that he fairly beamed as I rode out of the stable yard.

The weather is hot and sultry, and I suspect that sooner or later we will have a spectacular storm. I trust it will not be like the one I experienced when we first came to the island but even if it is not, I fear anything that has not been got under cover will be lost if the storm hits. Fimbrethil thinks that although the pressure is dropping it will be another day at least before we have rain and I put my faith in him.

We explore the valley and steeply sloping hills. Water is plentiful while the chalky soil should be good for vines that will produce white wine; I do not know if they will produce reds of a depth, complexity and flavor that would tempt my father’s palate.  
Fimbrethil is sure they will and I suppose the best way to find out is to plant the vines and see what happens so I agree to the hillsides being terraced and for vines to be planted in the spring, then I send him home while I ride on through the valley to New Imladris.

The heat and humidity is such that I welcome the offer of refreshments from the Lord and Lady of New Imladris even though I am aware that I am under close scrutiny to see if I have overcome the feelings of inadequacy engendered by Dagnir. I hope I give a good enough performance to persuade them that I am fully recovered but I am grateful when Ressor comes to draw me away to look at the ancient books and scrolls he has found.

He tells me that most of them have lain unread for three or more ages.

“I suspect the dialect was such as to put off even the most zealous of scholars.” He laughs, and adds, “Even I had difficulty in translating them. I scarcely read more than a third of them myself. If, or should I say when you have succeeded in deciphering them, for I know how stubborn you can be when you are determined enough, I would be grateful if you would let me have a translation. From what little I read some of them speak of the time when your grandfather first came to the Greenwood. I expect you will find such accounts quite fascinating.”

I agree with him and carefully stow the books in my pack ready for the journey home. I can scarcely wait to begin reading them.

I arrive back at Car Annûn to find Gaearon and Hwiniol just bringing in the last of the dried hay to store in the stable loft. Everyone seems to be busy and I feel a certain amount of guilt for my laziness but when I mention this to Gimli he dismisses my fears telling me that the members of my household are happy to see me looking more like my usual self, not to mention, he teasingly adds, that with my absence things got done far more quickly!

“Are those the books Erestor said he would send?”

Gimli nods at my bulging saddlebags and I nod and say I will take them up to my chambers and put them somewhere safe, Gimli frowns at this and I hurry to add that since they come from the library at New Imladris I am only concerned with keeping them in good condition and he seems to accept my excuses and waves me on my way.  
I am going to have to be very careful how and when I make use of them I decide for now since my nose is twitching because I can smell the most wonderful aromas coming from the kitchens and for the first time in many days I feel hungry I leave them piled up inside my bedchamber, I will put them away later for now I am anxious to get down to the kitchens and see if I can beg a taste of the fruit bread that Mistress Glasiel has just taken from the ovens.


	3. Gimli's pov

I finally blow out the lamp and settle back against my pillows after a long and somewhat stressful day knowing that it will be some time before sleep comes this night for I am frustrated and more than a little concerned about my elf. Since we returned from New Imladris after the council meeting he has barely left my side until today when he could not seem to get away from me fast enough. In spite of having plenty to do myself today I had thought to ride out to inspect the hills that Fimbrethil seems to think will work well for planting the first of our grape vines. Knowing he has been feeling reluctant to be away from me I volunteered to go along in order to offer the security of having me with him without denting his pride in any way. I figured if it was my idea he would not have the worry of being seen as weak or fearful, but to my surprise he was ready with a list of reasons why I should not come along. 

Since there was no reasonable reason not to agree to this I waited at home while he went out with Fimbrethil and then stopped in to see the folks at New Imladris and to borrow some books from the library there. Now the child may think he is slick and clever when trying to deceive me, but I could see as soon as I asked about the volumes in his saddle bags that something was up. Dissembling is not his strong suit and I could see he was nervous and on edge from the moment he hurried the packs up to his bedchamber. The reason for this behavior was not clear, but I wasn’t about to sit back and take his words at face value. As soon as he was distracted with Mistress Glasiel and her fruit bread I made my way up to his chambers before he had the opportunity to hide away whatever it was he had brought home.

I was both angry and worried when I opened the bags to find books, not about viticulture as I had been told, but history books written in the archaic language that Dagnir had insisted Legolas needed to learn.

Frankly I couldn’t decide if I was more angry over the falsehood that had been told to me or more concerned over the fact that the lad still seemed to think he needed to master the language. Not only that, but for the first time in a very long time I felt some confusion on how best to handle the situation. Recalling how he had recoiled from me yesterday I thought that I needed to take extra care not to seem threatening or harsh for the last thing I want to do is bring up bad memories of his time with Dagnir or give him any reason at all to fear me. Still I was not prepared to ignore the fact that he had purposely attempted to deceive me. Hurrying down to the kitchens where everyone was gathering for the noon meal I called my elfling to my side.

“Legolas, I need to speak to you for a few moments Lad.” I told him.

“About?” He asked, looking somewhat annoyed at the request. I was surprised at that for he rarely takes a disrespectful tone with me, though he might have been embarrassed at having been called out in front of the staff. He quickly dropped the expression however, when I frowned and informed him of the topic of discussion.

“About the volumes you brought with you from New Imladris, Elfling!” 

I noticed that he paled a bit when I turned to Mistress Glasiel and told her not to wait for us to begin serving the meal. After that he was quick enough to follow me out of the kitchen and into my downstairs office where he stood against the wall as far away from me as possible. Taking a deep breath and purposely lowering my voice I asked him to explain the situation.

“I…I couldn’t tell you about the volumes Gimli because I was afraid you wouldn’t approve.”

“So you thought the way around that was to lie to me about the subject matter you were interested in studying? Are you new around here, boy? Did you not know my feelings about being deceived?”

He looked decidedly worried, twisting his hands together in distress.

“Yes Elvellon, I did know. It’s just that I really wanted to read the volumes and I didn’t want you to worry. This is a history about some of my ancestors and I thought it might be helpful. I’m truly sorry to have lied to you.”

It is on the tip of my tongue to say he will indeed be a good deal sorrier very soon, for he has long known the usual penalty for lying, but one glance at his wide eyed expression and I no longer had the heart to say it. I couldn’t even bear the thought of it

“I should think so,” I growled, “for I expect far more from you than that. As far as those books go, I’m not about to let ye become obsessed with studying the damnable things as you were before. It is not good for you to spend so much time on such matters. Come with me.”

He meekly if somewhat apprehensively followed me upstairs, where I sent him to fetch me the books. I placed them on my own bookshelf telling him he will get them back when I decided it was time.

“You will not see them again tonight, Lad and when you do get them back you may have them right after dinner for thirty minutes a day and that is it. Do I make myself plain?”

He only nodded and looked down at the floor, peaking up at me a few moments later to see what else I would have to say. I could see he was expecting more, but I had nothing left to say other than to send him back down to the kitchen with a admonition to behave for the rest of the day. 

Unfortunately for me and the rest of those sharing the meal with us, that little piece of advice did very little good, for other than slamming around utensils and a surly request to be excused the meal was taken in stony silence at least on my elfling’s part. Everyone else attempted to be pleasant, though I saw Mistress Glasiel and Mistress Elanor exchange glances when the lad replaced his chair back under the table with more force than necessary. 

The evening meal was even less successful, with my elf glaring at me from across the table and then insisting that he preferred to go straight to bed rather than spending time together afterwards as we normally would. Other than my stipulations about the use of the history volumes, I cannot imagine what I have done to have made him so annoyed with me. His foul mood and poor attitude are a far cry from what I have come to expect from my usually sweet tempered charge and in fact put me in mind of our first days together before we came to understand one another. He seemed to want something from me, but for the life of me I cannot imagine what it is. Gentle words and offers to let him sleep in my room were met with rolled eyes and a cold look, though when I came in to check on him and remind him that he was to sleep rather than stay up all night brooding or prowling around outside he looked ready to weep and then embraced me before wishing me a good night. 

I can only guess that his feelings over what has taken place with Dagnir has him so confused and upset he doesn’t know how to act. So here I sit, rubbing my temples to alleviate the pressure there. I do not like living like this, but what can I do? 

I fall asleep worrying about the situation and wake up sometime in the wee hours to a thump. My first thought is that my elf is struggling through another dark dream, but when I enter his chambers expecting to find him tossing and turning, instead I see that he is collecting parchments and books from the floor where they have been dropped there. On closer inspection, I see they are not the history books that were borrowed from New Imladris, but the volumes brought by Dagnir. They should have been used as kindling the day they were brought here!

Again I feel my temper rise and have to resist the urge to haul him up by the ear before making very clear my opinion of such blatant disobedience. And yet as I recall how he suffered at the hands of Dagnir I cannot bring myself to do so. What if he ends up seeing me as a heartless bully? So instead of following my first reaction, I only growl and point to the bed before confiscating the ancient tomes and moving them to my own bookshelf to join the history volumes.

I return to his chambers to find him finally getting into bed as he was told to do several hours ago. I pull a chair up next to the bed and notice that he is chewing his lip and watching me expectantly, but once again the thundering scold that is on the tip of my tongue dies before I say a word. I only sigh and reach out to take his hand.

“You canna go night after night without sleeping, Child.” I try to reason. “You need to listen to me for I only want what is best for you.”

“It is difficult,” he tells me.

“I know, Lamb, but you’ve got to try,” I insist. He rolls his eyes at this and I have to bite my tongue to keep from commenting on that little piece of insolence. Instead I settle in to spend the rest of the night watching to make sure my elf stays where he should. 

I do not know if he really sleeps, but he does remain in bed for the next couple of hours until the sun comes up. I attempt to get him to talk to me about what is bothering him before we have to go through another painful day like yesterday, but he is still not ready it seems for he is not very forthcoming with any information. It is easy to see he is in turmoil, but he does not seem to be able to get any relief from it and I am at a loss on how to help him. I have found ways of helping him find release in the past, but I am loathe to even offer the usual warning of how I might loosen his tongue if he continues to refuse to cooperate. It seems cruel to do so and yet the obvious tumult he is in seems almost worse. I know very well that this cannot continue indefinitely. Still I cannot bring myself to say or do anything that might be construed as hurtful. The memory of what Dagnir did to him is too near.

So I continue to hold my peace, even as his mood seems to deteriorate throughout the day. He seems as frustrated with himself as I am with him and with my own inability to stop the spiral we have begun. I honestly feel sorry for his misery and yet I feel my ire rise once again as we are finishing thee evening meal together. Every avenue of discussion I attempt is met with an exasperated look or a curt reply which at one point causes Mistress Elanor’s eyebrows to raise in surprise, though she says nothing at all no doubt feeling it is not her place to interfere. Finally I give up the pretense that this is an ordinary meal and just speak up.

“Have I done something to offend you, Elfling? If so we’d best discuss it so I can enjoy this fine meal without having to watch you sulk and glower at me from across the table.”

“No you have not offended me,” he states coolly, “and you will not have to watch me any longer because I have an appointment with the volumes I borrowed from New Imladris. That is if you are still favorable to allowing it My Lord.”

I am stunned at the sarcastic tone and I have to grit my teeth and grip the edge of the table to keep myself under complete control. There is a heavy pause as we stare at one another and I get the feeling that he is purposely taunting me though I can’t figure out a reason why. I am not exactly sure when we got on opposite teams, but he seems to think we are.

‘Well?” he asks as if daring me to explode, but I only narrow my eyes.

“Thirty minutes,” I remind him. “No more.” 

He nods tersely, and abruptly leaves the table, but grumbles under his breath something about being treated like a child using what very much sounds like some choice Khuzdul swear words that would have gotten his ears boxed if Lady Vonild were still around. I, however, pretend not to hear it, though by the size of Mistress Elanor’s eyes as she enters the room I can see she has.

She says nothing, but begins clearing away the dishes, though she hesitates for a moment as if she would like to say something but is unsure if she should or not. Normally I rely on my own experience and how well I know my charge and his needs to work out how to handle situations, but this time I am not at all sure what to do. I know that something has to change and what normally feels right to me seems wrong in this case. If Elanor has something helpful to say I will be grateful for her assistance for I know she has raised four sons of her own so I ask for her thoughts.

“You look as if you’d like to say something Mistress Elanor. If so I’d be happy to hear it.”

Putting the dish in her hand back down again she says, “May I speak candidly, Lord Gimli?”

“Please, by all means.”

She perches on the chair across the table from me and leans forward crossing her hands on the table. “Our young lord has been through a terrible ordeal,” she begins, “that sorry excuse for an elf, Dagnir, turned his world upside down.”

I nod in agreement as she continues. “He looks to you for security and safety and needs reassurance that he can count on you to remain solid and predictable. I can almost guarantee if you do not begin taking a firmer stand very soon, he will continue to push more and more. He is acting out for your attention.”

It makes sense what she says, but still I worry. “I do not wish to upset him or bring up painful memories of what he’s suffered.”

“You needn’t worry over that,” she assures me with a smile. “He knows you love him and have his best interest in mind. And it isn’t as if he’s happy acting as he is now anyway is it? I promise you he is counting on you to stop the downward spiral of poor behavior.” 

I thank her, realizing that I probably knew this all along. It is only my own fears preventing me from responding as usual and taking a firm line. My own guilty feelings have probably played a part as well, for it pains me terribly that he was mistreated in my own house under my very nose. Still I am clearly doing no one any favors by continuing as I have been. Deciding I need to discuss this with him as soon as possible, I wait until the allotted thirty minutes have passed and then make my way to his chambers.

As I expected, he is engrossed in the history volume and is not at all pleased when I inform him that his time is up. 

“I just came to a mention of my own Daerada. I just need to finish a few pages.” He implores me.

“You can finish it tomorrow,” I tell him, firmly, “thirty minutes means thirty minutes. Besides I need to talk to you Lamb.”

“But Gimli… Hey!”

He scowls as I close the book and go into my own chambers to place it back on my bookshelf. He is still glaring when I come back to his chambers, but his eyes widen when I point a warning finger in his face.

“I won’t hear another word about it, Elfling! I am thoroughly tired of your back talk, your poor attitude and disobedience of rules meant for your own benefit. It will end today. Also there will be no more snarling, swearing, glaring or eye rolling every time I open my mouth to speak to you, either. I know you’ve been through a difficult time but that does not mean I intend to tolerate your disobedience and disrespect any longer. You are better than that, Lad, and I expect you to show it as I know you can. Is that perfectly clear?”

To his credit he looks contrite enough and is quick to respond.

“Yes, Gimli. I am sorry.”

“You will indeed be sorry if you don’t mend your ways and soon! If you do not, you will find yourself in a very undesirable position if you get my meaning.”

He nods, but I want to leave him without any doubts. “To make it perfectly clear, in terms that cannot be misunderstood let’s just say you are walking a very thin line as it is with me, and one more step over will get you a trip over my knee and a thoroughly roasted rear end. If that is something you’d rather avoid, then I’d suggest you straighten up and behave yourself. Have I made myself plain?”

“Aye, very plain.” He says, looking rather wide-eyed.

“It is your choice!”

“All right Elvellon. I understand.”

“Good Lad,” I say, kissing his forehead. “Now perhaps you’d best spend the rest of the evening in your chambers considering what we’ve discussed.”

He nods his understanding not daring, at least for now, to complain about this restriction. I take my leave feeling decidedly more in control of the situation, but also wondering how long it will be before I have to make good on my word.


	4. Legolas pov

I am just about to eat another slice of fruit bread when Gimli enters the kitchen and I see straight away that something has annoyed him and from his words the something appears to be me!

“Legolas, I need to speak to you for a few moments Lad.”

Why does he not just haul me off by my ear? His tone is such that no one present can fail to realize that something I have done has annoyed him again so my response is somewhat brusque.

“About?” 

I am sure my face loses any colour it had as he answers “About the volumes you brought with you from New Imladris, Elfling!”

How has he found out about that so soon I wonder as he turns to our housekeeper and tells her not to wait the meal for us, as we may be some time. That has an ominous ring to it so I scurry after my dwarf following him into his office but do my best to keep as big a distance as possible from him.

He looks at me with those oh so knowing eyes of his and asks me to explain myself. His hand taps impatiently on his desk although his voice is even and calm as he says “I will tell you first that I took the liberty of taking a look at those books you came home with. Nothing there on viticulture, that I can see. Would you like to tell me what they really contained?”

There is clearly no need to say since he has already seen them so all I do is tell him I didn’t mention what those particular volumes contained as I knew he would not approve of me continuing to work on books that had already caused me so much trouble.

“I am truly sorry to have lied to you.” I am sorry, and not just because I know well what his feelings are on deception, and how he normally deals with such lapses but also because I can see I have disappointed him.

“I should think so,” he growls, “for I expect far more from you than that. As far as those books go, I’m not about to let you become obsessed with studying the damnable things as you were before. It is not good for you to spend so much time on such matters. “

My attempts to explain my reasons for bringing the books falls on deaf ears as I feared they might but still I have to try and make him understand that this is important to me, important enough to make me attempt to deceive him which is something I do not do lightly. 

“It’s just that I really wanted to read the volumes and I didn’t want you to worry. This is a history about some of my ancestors and I thought it might be helpful. I repeat I’m truly sorry to have lied to you.”

He frowns at me and I hold my breath and await my fate for Gimli has a very short way of dealing with any attempts to obfuscate but all he says is “Come with me.”

Once again I trot obediently after Gimli, until we reach our respective bed chambers and he orders me to bring the books to him.  
When I have done so he places them on his own bookshelf telling me very firmly that I will not see them again until he says so. I open my mouth to argue then close it again as Gimli goes on to say I may use them to study for only a half hour a day.

“Now get down to the kitchen” he tells me “and behave yourself.”

I am dismissed as if I am little more than the smallest of elflings, and while one part of me is relieved that I have escaped relatively unscathed, another part of me is resentful of the fact that I should have my wishes thwarted in such a peremptory fashion and my needs ignored, although I carefully do not question myself over what those particular ‘needs’ are.

The meal is purgatory, for everyone knows that something is amiss between me and Gimli and my resentment at Gimli’s restrictions grows as the meal goes on. I cannot bring myself to join in with the conversation, wanting only to be away from everyone and everything and as soon as I can I ask for permission to leave. 

My temper is not helped by the fact that Mistress Glasiel and Mistress Elanor keep exchanging glances and both look at me disapprovingly when I push my chair under the table with a little more force than is necessary, I wait for the smallest of moments wondering if Gimli will call me on my lack of good manners but although I can see his brows bristling he turns and continues his conversation with Hwiniol leaving me with no other option than to leave with as much dignity as I can muster.

I contrive to keep away from everyone in the household for the rest of the day, and more than once it crosses my mind that I could go to Gimli’s chamber and take one of the books but tempted as I am I do not do so.

I am thoroughly frustrated and angry by the time I sit down to dinner for rather than find me out Gimli has left me alone, something he would normally never do. I do not understand why he has not insisted on me staying by his side so he could ensure I was behaving myself, not that I wish to be with him of course! Or do I?

I push my fortune further by telling Gimli that I am retiring to my rooms as soon as the meal ends and he nods and gives me permission to do so as if he is glad to see me go. Can he not see I need him to be as he ever is? I do not understand why his attitude towards me has changed so dramatically.

The long hours after dinner drag by. My thoughts are confused, my emotions mixed, anger, pain, abandonment. When Gimli comes to wish me good night I can not wait to be rid of him, but as soon as he starts toward the doors I hurry after him to seek his arms and wish him a good night and have to wipe tears from my face when he finally disappears. I do not know what is wrong with me, I only know Gimli is not reacting as he would normally do and that confuses me even further.

And I dare not seek sleep, for with sleep come the dark dreams that have haunted me for these last few weeks. Every night no matter how hard I try, Dagnir’s sneering countenance enters my dream path and reminds me again and again of my failures, of how I am incapable of standing on my own two feet, of how I hide behind Gimli and Elrond in an attempt to cover my own inadequacies. I try to put him from my mind but it seems I am as unsuccessful in that as in everything else.

Once I hear Gimli’s snores from the next chamber I pull out the books and scrolls that Dagnir left behind and begin to work through them as best I can. It seems to me that only by mastering them will I be able to prove to myself that Dagnir was wrong about me.

Yet at some point I must drift off, for I wake with a start, knocking the books onto the floor and the noise obviously wakes Gimli for he appears in the doorway demanding to know what is going on.

I expect an explosion of wrath, for even if I try to justify what I am doing by saying they are not the books Gimli confiscated I know he will disapprove and the way he is glaring at them makes me wonder if they will spontaneously set on fire so angry is his demeanor.

But rather than shouting, Gimli points to the bed while bundling up the books and stalking off with them. No doubt he intends to add them to the growing pile of volumes in his bed chamber.

I do not know whether to climb into bed which he has indicated I should do or whether I should defy him and make it plain that I was doing no wrong. Cowardice wins out over bravado and I am just settling under the covers when Gimli returns. I know what to expect now of course, and I cannot help but chew on my bottom lip as I wait for Gimli to make his move. He does reach out his hand and I cannot stop myself flinching slightly, but Gimli merely holds my hand in his and pats it as if in an attempt to comfort me. That is not what I want. I realize what I need is for him to take control, to force me to do as he wishes, to take away all my doubts and insecurities as only he can, but it is not something I can ask for. 

“You canna go night after night without sleeping, Child. You need to listen to me for I only want what is best for you.” He tells me

“It is difficult,” which has to be the understatement of the yeni. I roll my eyes at my own inability to state what I need and then wonder if that piece of impertinence will finally break through Gimli’s determination to remain calm. 

Like much else I try to do it fails in its intent. Gimli settles into a chair with the purpose of spending the night watching me sleep.

I do sleep, but fitfully, and only for a short while. I am grateful to see the sun rise through the open shutters of the windows and anxious to rise but Gimli seems to be determined this morning to try and find out what it is that is plaguing me.  
I want to answer him, truly I do, but I cannot bring myself to give voice to my fears. I know I am being foolish, and that my silence adds to Gimli’s frustrations but it is impossible to say what is in my heart. To do so would cause my beloved dwarf pain and I have troubled him sufficiently in the last decade or so.

Another miserable day passes by, and I would be hard pressed to say what if anything I achieved during it. My temper is short, my ability to control either it or my other more negative feelings increasingly negligible, so I try and avoid everyone’s company. I feel exhausted and drained, and on edge. The evening meal is even more of a trial than last night.

Gimli tries hard to bring me out of myself, but though I wish to open up to him to confess my unhappiness, all I succeed in doing is annoying him further with my inability to explain myself.

And while Gimli remains calm and in control of his temper, something which deep within my fêa I know is doing my hroa little good, Mistress Elanor does not scruple to let me know her disapproval.

Eventually even my guardian’s patience seems to come to an end and he asks if he has done something to offend me.

I want to answer yes, you are not offering me what I need but instead I take myself off to my chambers telling him that I will not impose my unwanted presence on him any longer. I hope this might elicit the kind of response I need. My stomach clenches in that familiar uncomfortable way that heralds painful retribution and then blessed absolution. I even add fuel to the fire by adding sarcastically ‘that if you are still favorable to allowing it My Lord.’

But all I get is a reminder that my access to the books is strictly limited and having waited to see if more is to come and been disappointed I leave the table making use of a particularly choice curse that would lead to my mouth being washed out if it were to overheard by any other dwarf than Gimli it seems.

My frustration at the situation is slightly defused by what I read as I settle into my chair and come to a passage on Greenwood the Great at the time my daeradar travelled from Lindon. It is interesting to see this history from another point of view, I am well acquainted with the stories told by my father’s scribes but this has subtle differences and also shows that the arrival of the Sindar was not universally welcomed.

I am just at a very interesting account of the withdrawal of groups of the Silvan elves into the deepest forests when I find that Gimli who I have been wanting all evening to take some kind of action, decides just as I could do with some time alone that it is time for me to put my books away.

I tell him that I have just found something of real interest but he insists and when I fail to respond swiftly enough, actually snatches the books away from me and takes them to his own chambers. I am still scowling at this action when he returns, but where he has up until now been reticent to lay down the law it seems that he is no longer reluctant to do so.   
A finger is pointed in my face and I am told in no uncertain terms just what will be happening to me if I continue to display the sort of bad manners and insolence I have been exhibiting in the last few days.

It is strange twist of fate indeed that after all my wishes for Gimli to do exactly what he is now doing, drawing the lines and setting the boundaries, I now wish he had continued in his determinedly hands off attitude, I am never contented it seems.

But while I may resent it I am not so far gone that I do not respond to his demand to know if all is now perfectly clear with an apology and a nod of the head and when he further expands upon his plans for my future should I fail to mend my ways I find I can only stutter that he has indeed made his views very plain and agree that an evening spent considering his words may be just what is required.

Indeed I do intend to do just that, I swear it, it is that the information in the books is calling to me and I am desperate to read just a little bit more. I am sure I can retrieve the book I need once Gimli has retired for the night and replace it without him being any the wiser, that is my plan at least.

And my plan for once actually works. Gimli sleeps the sleep of the deserving and I settle down in the window seat where the light of the moon and stars gives me sufficient light to read by. With the window open because of the sultry weather it is very pleasant, I can hear the sounds of the night creatures as they make their way about the grounds and I catch a glimpse of an owl out on the hunt. After so many weeks of tension and confusion I finally feel relaxed and at peace with myself as I turn to my book.

What I find in its ancient pages is a revelation; here are tales of Silvan communities that were settled in the southern Greenwood when Oropher came to the wood. Unlike the majority of the Silvan elves who welcomed the newcomers these elves appeared to distrust and actively dislike the Sindar, the stories tell of argument, disagreement, refusal to accept any none Silvan into their settlements and a gradual withdrawal from any contact with their neighbors.

Such xenophobic behavior is not unknown amongst the firstborn of course. My own parent’s dislike of his dwarven neighbors being a case in point, but Thranduil knew the worth of the dwarves of Erebor and the Lonely Mountain and recognized their skill in metal work and their fighting abilities. He did not shun them as fully as this group of Silvan elves apparently did my grandfather and his court.

They withdrew deeper and deeper into the woods it appears, refusing any offers of support or protection when the shadows deepened and the necromancer took possession of Dol Guldar. They paid a heavy price for that refusal it seems, for towards the back of the history someone has carefully penned in the names of those lost from the creeping darkness that enveloped my home.

I let my eyes run down the pages of names, and feel a deep sorrow for the individual families who appear there. I too lost a loved one to the shadow. My own nana who was of Silvan stock was killed in the woods she loved so well, and others I have known and cared for have also died in the long struggle that filled so much of my time on Arda. I have long admired my Adar’s strength, for he took each death personally and grieved with the families for he considered it his duty as king to protect those who lived under his wing and his inability to do so hurt him badly.

But for each individual family of course their loss must feel the greatest the most overpowering emotion. They cannot conceive that anyone else’s grief might be comparable to their own. I look out at the night sky again pondering on the losses so many have suffered and what effect it had on them and their families.

Then I go back to perusing the list of names and my breathe catches in my throat for there half way down the page I see a name I recognise all too well, Dagnir!

He lost his son to the darkness and then took his family and fled into the west it says.

Pieces of the puzzle that has been Dagnir begin to fall into place in my mind, and I cannot prevent the cry that comes from my lips. Given what I have read tonight about the hatred this group of elves had for their Sindar brethren how they refused their aid to their own cost and Dagnir’s personal loss perhaps his strange attitude towards me is more understandable.

Was there some thought of revenge, or a desire to inflict hurt upon a child of the Sindar, indeed a grandson of the king they rejected? I cannot sit still any longer. I have to speak to someone and that someone has to be Gimli for if he agrees to my reading of what may be at the heart of Dagnir’s actions I may finally be able to free my mind of his control and dominance. 

So desperate am I to find an answer and to free myself from his hold that I hurry into Gimli’s bedchamber shaking his arm and urging him to awaken.

Long years as a warrior means he is awake and rising, his hand going automatically where his axes would normally be were he still in Middle Earth.

“What is it lad? What is wrong? Did you have bad dreams again?”

His concern for my welfare is always touching so I take the time to reassure him on that issue before pushing the book into his lap while I light his lamp and hold it where he can see Dagnir’s name in the list.

“I see it lamb but what does it have to do with anything?” He grumbles at me.

I hurry to explain, “The book deals with Silvan elves that refused to have anything to do with the Sindar because they considered them to be interlopers. They withdrew into the woods but without protection many lost family members in the battles that came with the arrival of Orc and other dark creatures that were spawned by Sauron and his ilk. Dagnir lost a son, and it made me think that perhaps he behaved as he did towards me because of resentment of who I was and what my daeradar did. It would explain so much would it not?” I ask anxiously.

Gimli blinks at me and then back at the book. A frown grows on his face and I wonder if perhaps I have been too precipitate to make the link between Dagnir and his treatment of me.

“Am I wrong?” I falter. “Am I making too much of what I have read.”

He shakes his head, “Nay it may indeed explain many things that have been such a puzzle to us all. You will need to show it to Elrond and Erestor and get them to give you their opinions on it, but I would say it may well answer our questions and while it cannot excuse that rascal Dagnir, it may be easier to understand him. It is not that which makes me frown lamb.”

I cannot for the life of me think what it is that is causing Gimli’s displeasure, “I am sorry if you wished I had not woken you …” I begin, “I needed you to see it, I needed your reassurance. I apologize.” 

My face must show my disappointment for his reaction to my news for Gimli immediately growls, “It is not your waking me that has me in a pucker laddie, but the fact that you are here in the middle of the night holding a book that I am quite certain I confiscated earlier on today aye and which I ordered you to leave alone until tomorrow at the earliest.”

I stare at the book, then up at Gimli and swallow hard. In my excitement I entirely forgot about the fact that I have gone against his direct orders.

“Oh, uh, I … forgot” I quaver.

“Aye, so I can see, and I can readily believe that finding that name and being able to answer the questions that have plagued ye so much is a wonderful thing. I hope very much lamb that it allows you to let go of all the unhappiness that he heaped upon your head. Y did not deserve any of his spite and hatred as I have tried to tell you. I am happy for you truly but …”

“I broke my word to leave the books where they were and to rest.” I finish for him.

“Aye and that disobedience will need to be addressed will it not?”

Reluctant as I may be to acknowledge the truth in that question I nod. All the excitement and relief I felt only a moment ago leaving me in a rush. I feel thoroughly deflated and Gimli seems to sense it for he adds.

“But not now. For now you will go back to bed. We will discuss this, all of this” he waves his hand at the book, “tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow” I echo relieved yet disappointed at the same time. I cannot face the rest of the night alone. I look down at my guardian through my eyelashes. 

“May I stay here with you? I will not fidget or keep you awake ...” I do not need to say more. He pulls the blankets back and I slip in beside him. I do not care what the morning will bring, for now I am safe.

I keep my word and keep still but only by the most determined effort, but while my body is still my mind is in a whirl.

Part of me cannot wait for the dawn so I can begin reading again to see if my initial thoughts over Dagnir are correct. Such a reassurance would surely allow me to put the last months behind me and stop the drip, drip of erosion of my confidence. 

The other part of me knows that the morning will bring me a great deal of pain, transient pain though it is, and well deserved as it is, I cannot pretend to look forward to it save that I know that in the punishment’s wake will come the comfort and forgiveness that I need so much, the reassurance of the love that sustains and strengthens me and on which I so much rely.  
The morning will come I decide whether or not I will it, so eventually I settle into the pillows and concentrate on Gimli’s familiar and regular breathing and eventually I drift off as well.

I do not wake until well after dawn and it is to find that Gimli has already risen and gone on his way, I hurry to wash and dress and follow him downstairs. The household are assembled for break of fast and all look up as I enter and murmur an apology for my tardiness, and then for my lack of appetite.

I glance pleadingly at Gimli who eventually takes pity on me and tells Mistress Glasiel that he is sure I will be hungry by the time the noon meal is on the table. 

That might be true, for I suspect my stomach will not be tied in knots then as it is now but as for sitting down to eat that may well be impossible given what I know of my dwarf’s strength.


	5. Gimli's pov

I take my place at the table where the household has gathered for first meal. Aerlinn and Gaearon wish me a good morning at the same time while Master Fimbrethil politely inquires if I’ve had a restful night. I smile at that thinking about what kind of night I’ve had being awakened in the middle of the night to be forced to read a book in a language that I haven’t any idea how to read, and then awakened this morning by a long shank of golden hair being flipped in my face. Legolas managed to make good on his promise to keep still and not disturb me, but once he was asleep it was a different story. Not that I minded, for I could see that he needed the closeness even though whatever it was that he had discovered in his forbidden studies had eased his mind considerably.

I’ll never forget the look on his face when I reminded him of my words of what would happen were he to disobey me again in regards to such studies. His excitement must have been tremendous for him to actually wake me up and prove to me that he had disregarded my orders after he had already all but gotten by with it. Or perhaps it was a subconscious need to grope for familiar boundaries and test the strength of my resolve just to make sure things were still the same. Whatever the case, I expect he will be more than a little nervous this morning and I must admit to feeling a trifle anxious myself. I know I cannot sway in my ruling on this matter, but I am concerned that when it comes down to it he might be reminded of how he suffered at Dagnir’s hand. I know it is ridiculous to feel this way as Mistress Elanor pointed out to me yesterday. Not only does the lad know I love him and would never do anything to hurt him, he also knows he has more than earned my attention in this matter. Even so, I worry.

 

Forodren and Hwiniol begin discussing their plans for the morning, wondering if I need their help working on the sheds after they have finished taking care of the stock and I have to tell them rather vaguely that I am otherwise engaged this morning. Eventually Mistress Glasiel sets the last of the dishes on the table and points out that we will be ready to begin as soon as Legolas arrives. 

“We will not wait for Lord Legolas this morning, Mistress Glasiel. He was sleeping soundly and I did not wish to wake him this morning.” I tell her. It is not like he will be able to eat anything anyway considering the discussion we will be having soon, I think to myself.

“I hope all is well,” she replies knitting her brows together in concern, for she and Mistress Elanor tend to cluck like mother hens over the lad especially since the day they tended the hurts inflicted on him by Dagnir. I hurry to reassure her.

“Aye everything is fine. Or at least it soon will be,” I say. 

“That is good,” she says mildly, but I notice a flicker of a glance at Mistress Elanor whose lip twitches very slightly before she begins serving the meal. No doubt they will have little trouble guessing what is going on between us, for they were both witness to Legolas’ foul mood and appalling manners last evening and of course Mistress Elanor has already given her opinion on how she thinks things should be handled.

Of course they are too discreet to mention such a thing, so they finally take a seat themselves and breakfast begins. It is only a few minutes later when Legolas arrives, offering a sheepish apology for being late and then sitting down to stare at the food that is heaped on his plate in spite of soft protests that he is not really hungry. He sends me an imploring look, so I rescue him from our two overzealous housekeepers.

“I am certain the lad will be quite ready to eat by the noon meal, Mistress Glasiel. For now perhaps some tea would do. What do you think, Lamb?”

He nods at me thankfully, and perceptive Mistress Elanor takes pity on him and removes the plate, replacing it with a steaming cup of tea sweetened with honey and plenty of cream. He wraps both hands around it and sips at it while everyone else finishes eating and talking of plans for the day. He flushes when he has to tell Gaearon that he will not be joining him this morning in the gardens as planned since he is otherwise engaged, but he does not explain further than that when Gaearon questions him about it. Master Forodren frowns and elbows his son in the ribs as a reminder to mind his own business, which also gives me the idea that perhaps Forodren has also guessed our plans as well. After all everyone here has seen my elfling’s less than exemplary behavior over the last few days, so it would stand to reason that folks could put two and two together and guess at the result of that. Still I am careful not to say a word that might unduly embarrass him until all have left to go about their various activities, leaving the two housekeepers clearing away the dishes, which reminds me that last evening while doing this same task they were both exposed to language that should never be uttered in front of a lady, something that must be addressed in my opinion. I do not hesitate to point this out.

“Perhaps ye have something to say to Mistress Glasiel and Mistress Elanor before we move on, Lamb?” 

Of course he is sensitive enough to get my meaning and apologizes beautifully for his poor language and lack of manners in their presence yesterday, causing Glasiel to nod graciously and Elanor to actually smile and pat his hand while winking at me from across the table. He looks at me for direction and I nod my approval before indicating that he should take himself upstairs and wait for me there. I watch him leave and then close my eyes and sigh heavily, making Elanor laugh out loud and pat my hand this time. 

Knowing that waiting is excruciating for my elf, I give him only a few minutes before I follow him where I find him waiting quietly on the edge of his bed. His hands are folded tightly in his lap and I can tell he is as apprehensive, as am I. I resist the urge to wipe my palms nervously on my thighs. Instead I go into my own chambers and bring back the history book that has caused the lad so much trouble and place it in his lap before bringing a chair up next to the bed where I sit facing him. He looks at me uncertainly, so I begin to explain what I want.

“I want you to tell me again what you were trying to say in the middle of the night last night Lamb. What is so important that you stepped eyeball deep into bother for it?”

He opens the book to the correct page and starts to hand it back to me, making me laugh at him.

“You’ll have to read it to me, Laddie,” I remind him. “Recall that even Lord Erestor does not read this language well, let alone an ordinary old dwarf like myself.”

He smiles at that and begins translating the passage that so interested him last night. After he is finished I have to agree that he is probably right. Clearly Dagnir was seeking revenge on Legolas for perceived wrongs committed by his grandfather thousands of years before the lad was even born. What I do not understand is why this is so important to him. What makes him need so desperately to understand his tormentor? 

“Why does this mean to you, Lamb?” I ask him.

“Don’t you see Gimli? If this is true, then that means it wasn’t anything personal.” I must look confused for he continues to explain. “If his treatment of me wasn’t personal, but was a grudge held against my grandfather and the Sindar in general, then that means there is nothing wrong with me after all.”   
   
   
“Wrong with you?” I growl, suddenly furious. “ Of course there is nothing wrong with you, Elfling, no matter what that lying scoundrel said!”  
   
“You are angry…”   
   
“Of course I am angry!” I explode  “I have every right to be after the way that evil son of an orc treated you.  You should be angry yourself, Lad!  You were wronged in a terrible fashion, perhaps even more so than I  thought at first.  I know it is difficult to speak of Lamb, but I want you to tell me exactly what he said to you that gave ye the outrageous idea that something was wrong with you.”  
   
He stares at me for a long moment and then lowers his eyes.  I reach out to lift his chin so that he is forced to look at me.  
   
“Sharing the burden will make it less powerful, Lamb.”  
   
Still I have to wait several minutes before he finally begins to speak, telling me as quickly as possible and in a monotone voice exactly what was said to him.  I feel the bile rise in my throat as he talks of Dagnir reminding him daily that he was a disappointment to the Silvan folk he was meant to represent  besides being incapable of learning what needed to be learned and a coward who hid behind Lord Elrond and myself.  I move to sit next to him on the bed and pull him into my arms.  How I hate that insufferable elf for what he did to my lad!  I sit stroking his hair for a moment, until he finally admits his  worst fear.  
   
“What if it’s true?”  
   
I gently slap the side of his thigh. “Of course it isn’t true, Elfling!” I state firmly.  “Did not what you just read in the book prove that Dagnir is just a bitter old elf looking to cause trouble?  Even if that weren’t so, why would  you take his word on your worth over my good opinion, or Lord Elrond’s or Lord Erestor’s or even Lady Galadriel’s?  Why even the Valar themselves must have thought you worthy of special favor. Did they not create this very land just for you to settle?”  
   
He pulls back and looks at me and I notice that tears are already standing in his eyes.  “I…I hadn’t thought of that,” he admits.  
   
“And there is your trouble, Laddie.  I could have helped  you think of it and saved you all sorts of agony of mind, but you refused to tell me what ye were thinking.  Why did you not confide in me?”  
   
   
   
“I didn’t want to worry you, Elvellon,” he tries to explain, “I have already plagued you enough as it is.”  
   
I force myself to speak calmly, even though my annoyance level goes up several notches at that bit of information. “It is my right as your assigned guardian to worry over you, young elf, and it is not your place to protect me from concern.  I have told you time and again that if you are upset over something you are to confide in me rather than let it plague your mind.  Isn’t it so?”  
   
“Yes, Gimli.”  
   
“Then refusing to do so is an act of willful disobedience, something I have tolerated far too much of these last few days.”  
   
He blinks madly to prevent tears from falling, though I can see already that he is feeling a good deal better.  I wonder if I will be able to carry on, for I can see he has been suffering, though I know it will be a mistake not to.  It is better to get this over with Still I pull him back into my embrace, tucking his golden head under my chin  
   
“I am so sorry for what he did to you, Lamb,” I whisper to the top of his head, “It breaks my heart to know you have suffered so at his hand and that he has continued to haunt you all this time.”  
   
I expect the flood gates to open at that, but instead he only lets out a long quavering breath and  I no longer  doubt what I must do.  He needs this release to ease the knot that he must be feeling in the pit of his stomach.  I kiss the top of his head and have to clear my throat twice before I am able to speak.  Taking him by the shoulders I pull him away from me so I can see his face.  
   
“All right then, Elfling.  I believe I told you what to expect if you chose to disregard me again, did I  not?”  
   
He swallows hard, but nods in agreement.    
   
“Then let us get on with it.”  I push the chair back and move to sit back down.  
   
I reach for his hand but he automatically draws back out of the way and then cringes at his own reaction. 

“I’m sorry Gimli,” he says putting his hand in mine this time and rising to his feet. I take his other hand as well.

“There is no reason to be, Lamb,” I tell him. “We will get through this together. All right?”

He nods. “You do understand why we are doing this do you not?  It has nothing to do with making mistakes at the council, or because anything Master Dagnir said about you was true. It is not because I am unhappy with you or disappointed in you in any way.  Is that plain?”  
   
“Yes Gimli.”  
   
“It is only because you chose to disobey me in the matter of those books and because I have told you a million times that you are to speak to me when you are upset over something. You’ve been attempting to hide your suffering from me and as far as I am concerned that is no different than trying to hide a physical injury, and you know very well how I feel about that!”  
“I do.”  
   
“Very well then,” I say, patting my lap. He starts to place himself into the familiar position, until I put out a hand to stop him and clear my throat.  Understanding my meaning he flushes pink and fumbles with the ties to his leggings and then pushes them down before quickly lying across my lap.  I allow him a moment to adjust to being upside down before placing one hand on his waist and bringing the other one down firmly on one fair cheek.  He squeaks with the shock of it, but then is quiet and cooperative as I continue to warm him up good.  At the first sign of distress, I stop for a moment and ask if he is all right.  
   
“What?…  Yes fine,” he sniffles, obviously surprised, but rather than explaining my own fears, I only nod and tighten my hold on him and carry on with renewed determination to see this through.  After that it isn’t long until he is sobbing in earnest and having trouble controlling his movements.  Taking a deep breath I tip him forward a bit and pay extra attention to the most sensitive areas, speaking very plainly to reiterate my point.  
   
“Disobedience and poor manners are not now and never will be tolerated in this house, young elf! Is that clear.”  
   
“OH yes!”  
   
“And do you have anything you’d like to say to me?”  
   
“I’m sorry Elvellon.”  
   
“Aye I know you are, Lamb,”  I rest one hand on his scorched skin and rub his back with the other.  “Anything else?”  
   
He continues to sob for several seconds and then finally whispers, “Thank you.”  
   
I chuckle at that, but do not ask what it is that he is thanking me for. I just let him take his time to catch his breath and decide when he would like to move from his current position.  It takes a full couple of minutes before he rises a bit stiffly and carefully reorders his clothing, wincing a bit as he does so.  I guide him to the bed where he can be more comfortable.  Sitting next to him, I pull him close against my chest, causing him to break out in a fresh bout of stormy tears.  I stroke his hair and whisper soothing words as he continues to weep while I breathe deeply myself, trying to calm my own jangled emotions.  After a while he calms and goes quiet except for a few hitched breaths every few seconds.  I can feel my own  heart still beating wildly.  I know it is not the same and that it is crazy to be concerned, but I do not wish to cause him to relive any painful memories.  After a while, I think he may have fallen asleep, but he lifts his head to look at me questioningly.  
   
“Gimli are you nervous?” he asks, amazed. “Your heart is racing.”  
   
“Aye so it is, Laddie,” I tell him.  “I suppose I am a bit.”  
   
“Whatever for?”  
   
“I did not wish to hurt you, child, after what ye’ve been through or to give you cause to fear me either.”  
   
He looks at me incredulously  “Fear you?” He snorts with laughter.  
   
“It is hardly a laughing matter, Princeling!”  
   
“Oh but it is!” he titters.   “How could I be afraid of  you?  You are about as frightening as Mista.”  
   
“Are ye calling me a kitten, Elfling?” I chuckle, giving him a light swat on his already tender backside.  He yelps and gently rubs his battered flesh.  
   
“Aye I guess I am,” he tells me, “A big noisy one with claws perhaps, but still a kitten.”  
   
I shake my head and laugh. “Such insolence!  Have ye learned nothing today?”    
   
He answers with a laugh of his own and then snuggles close against me once again and for the first time in days all feels right between us.  
 


	6. Legolas pov

Gimli made me laugh by asking me if I feared him. Of course I answered no, but then as I lie here with my head on his shoulder I wonder if perhaps I have indeed begun to build up anxiety in my mind and on some level I was afraid of experiencing the same shame and feelings of inadequacy that I felt when Dagnir punished me when Gimli called me to account. It makes some sort of strange sense I suppose, for Dagnir continually reminded me that what he was doing was in my best interest, for my own good that it was needful so that I learned my lessons properly. My reasoning side tells me that Gimli’s care of me is nothing like the cruelty that was inflicted upon me by Dagnir. Of course it is not, I know it is not, and yet, and yet …  
If that is the case why did I flinch when Gimli put out his hand to help pull me to my feet?

I saw Gimli’s horrified expression when I recoiled, and that hurt me far more than the paddling that followed.  
I had dealt my beloved guardian a hard blow, not a physical one but an emotional one, never have I wished more that I could have controlled my reaction.  
But I did not …

“Lamb?”

“I was just thinking”

“You?”

I raise my head, and attempt to glare at him but he just holds me close and kisses my brow. 

“All right then you were thinking?”

“Yes …” I hesitate, wanting very much to tell him what is on my mind but not wishing to cause him further hurt, so I settle for saying. “Gimli, I am sorry.”

“You already said so, and I know as well as should you that what happened with Dagnir was not your fault. I do not put any blame on ye for that, you know that don’t ye?”

“I … I know, and I am trying, trying not to blame myself either but it is not … not easy. My rational side, which I do have,” I manage a huff of pretended annoyance but this is too important to make light of things for long and I may never gain sufficient courage to give voice to my real fears again so I sober up swiftly and go on. “tells me that now I know the reasons behind Dagnir’s actions I should be able to accept that what happened was not my fault, just as you and all my friends have told me, but deep down Gimli, a small voice is still there, a voice of doubt and misgiving a voice that has steadily eaten away at my self-esteem and belief in my abilities.” 

Gimli rather than tease merely responds by holding me closer which tells me more than words could that he understands, which helps me say next, “I want that voice gone Gimli, make it go away, saes!”

To my dismay I find I am crying again, and I am unable to prevent the racking, noisy sobs and desperation as I cling to my dwarf.

Even as he offers me comfort I hear him vow that he will make Dagnir pay for what he has done to me and I do not doubt my dwarf will manage it for Gimli does not take an oath lightly.

“That he should make ye afraid of me …” he mutters his voice hoarse and filled with emotion.

I cling to him and whisper, “I do not want to fear you Gimli; I know there is no need for me to do so. Your care of me is of the purest kind, motivated only by love and a desire to see me do right. Yet even so I pulled away from you and I know that I hurt you. I could not help it, for a second, just the tiniest moment I thought … I thought …”

“That I was like Dagnir?” Gimli supplies  
I hear the pain in his words and hurry to reassure him, “No, not like him; never like him, but maybe that I deserved you to be,” I raise my eyes to his and confess my darkest fear, “that I needed you to be.”

 

Gimli’s hold on me tightens and once again I feel him tremble, “And now Lamb?”

“Now,” I take a long breath and find that having finally given voice to my deepest fear, it is beginning to lose its power over me just as Gimli told me it would. “Now I believe that with your support and love I can and will learn from this experience but not be affected by it over the long term. That I will eventually be able to put this behind me and be grateful that the outcome was as positive as it has been, thanks to you Elvellon.”

Gimli harrumphs in that particular way of his which means he is embarrassed but pleased by what is being said and he kisses my brow again.

“Then that is well, lamb.”

And as I allow myself to drift off onto the path of dreams I actually believe that even if all is not quite well yet, it will be.


	7. Gimli's pov

As my elfling drifts off to sleep I sit humming softly, hoping that the sound of my voice and the comfort of my arms still holding him close will be enough to stave off any ugly thoughts or dark dreams. There is no need to move him, for he is not likely to sleep very long. It is still morning and only a couple of hours since he arose. It is just the expected aftermath of such an emotionally and physically draining act that has him exhausted right now. Very soon he will awaken and hopefully be ready to face the rest of the day feeling relieved and more hopeful about the future.

As I watch him sleep, I cannot help feeling enraged at the elf who inflicted such pain on him. How I would love to make Dagnir feel every blow and every painful emotion he has put my sweet elfling though, and ten times over besides! I am not one to stir up trouble or to seek retribution in most cases, but I know deep down that I would cheerfully rip out his black heart with my own hands if I could!

Most of all I wish I could promise Legolas that he will never have to face Dagnir again, that I have the power to keep him safe from his insidious presence forever. As much as I wish to make such vows, I cannot, for I do not know if it is true, even though I wish it with all my heart. 

 

The truth is Dagnir is still out there. He has been holding a grudge for thousands of years and was recently humiliated by the offspring of the King he hated. He is not likely to give up seeking vengeance now. I know this and I shudder because of it.

As I expected, my elf wakes after sleeping for just under an hour. He stretches and yawns, wincing a bit, but then smiles and looks up at me with great trusting eyes. As ever, I am touched by his faith in me and I pray that it is not misplaced.

I mentally shake myself. I will do everything in my power to protect my lad from harm, and while I cannot guarantee that the slimy scoundrel will not seek revenge or work hard to make life difficult for our house, one thing I do know is that Dagnir in time will regret ever having messed with the son of my heart.

If it is the last thing I do this side of Mandos Halls, he will pay.

Oh yes he will pay dearly.


End file.
